In Cognito
by Fredricko
Summary: Some days, Arthur seemed to acknowledge Merlin as an equal, and would talk to him as such; other days a teasing remark would earn Merlin a bucket of mop water thrown in his face. He never quite knew what to expect.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of these characters, places, etcetera belong to me. Please don't sue. I have no money.

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"_What?"_ Merlin stared at Prince Arthur, holding the light pink tunic as though it were a rotting carcass. The prince of Camelot had gone insane; he was sure of it. "Arthur. No. Just _no_." He folded the offensive outfit and placed it on the table behind him, pushing it towards the furthest corner of the oak surface. He turned around and looked back at Arthur, crossing his arms. "You've got to be joking."

"Alright. Perhaps that didn't work. I'll give you that. But this," Arthur flapped a dark sun-colored jerkin and smoothed out a non-existent wrinkle, gesticulating sarcastically at the article of clothing as he did so. "_This,_ now, this is _steeped _in 'noble bearing.' Now hurry up and put it on." He balled up the pleated material and threw it at Merlin's head.

"I hardly think-" Merlin tried to retort, but the heavy material sailed through the air and hit him in the face.

"Oh, believe me, I've noticed." Arthur called over his shoulder as he set to work tearing through the contents of his gargantuan oak wardrobe. "But don't you worry, your _liege_," He said brightly in mock solicitousness. "_I _will cloth you as appropriate for the royal court. It will require no thought on your part, as I know it hurts you."

Merlin freed his head from the jerkin and let it drop to the floor. "Arthur, just hold on a moment." He picked his way through the mess of clothing and discarded ornamental finery, dodging a thrown cloak and errant black satchel as he made his way to Arthur's side. "You have to be aware that this has no hope of working," His voice held a note of barely concealed annoyance. "_At all. _I haven't got"

Arthur turned to him abruptly and pushed Merlin roughly back and onto the bed. "Oh _do_ be quiet, Merlin." He said imperiously, looking down at him sternly before grabbing hold of Merlin's ankle and giving the boy's boot a firm tug. "I am Prince Arthur, and as such, I will _make_ it work." When the boot showed no signs of relenting, he took hold of it with both hands and gave it a sharp yank.

"I –_ow! Stop _it!" Merlin grabbed hold of his own thigh and tried futilely to regain possession of his leg; Arthur was beginning to scare him in his earnestness. "The buckle! Haven't you removed a boot before!?" _On second thought,_ some inconsequential part of Merlin's brain commented, _he probably hasn't; at least not that I've seen._

Merlin attempted a glare at the overly enthusiastic prince, but to no effect. Perhaps if he reasoned with the heir apparent, the agitating prat would listen. "I haven't got a chance of being mistaken as a member of the royal house, Arthur. _Please." _

Arthur paid him no heed. "If I dressed you in blue and white, would you be able to act like an Anwynnian nobleman, Merlin, or would you prefer Cantalgry? They've got a sort of grey- "

"_Sire." _Merlin tried a slightly different tact, looking beseechingly up at his tormentor with wide eyes. "Trust me on this; _No_ _one_ is going to buy it. And if anyone finds out, Arthur, I- I'll be locked up until I'm _gray_." Merlin was growing weary of Arthur's use of him as a source of entertainment. The prince either didn't realize or didn't mind that the repercussions that Merlin had to endure from these little forays were agonizing and very often utilized rotting produce.

Arthur glanced up from his molestation of the offending footwear and gave Merlin a self-confident smirk. It was an eerie sight, the prince looking down at him with such superiority as he _removed Merlin's boots_. "It isn't as though anyone of importance will know who you are. In any case," He scoffed, pushing Merlin's pant leg up and shoving his fingers into the opening of the boot to get a firmer grip. "The nobles of the Tintagel territory aren't in any position to comment on the lineage of _anyone_, much less anyone that belongs to Camelot's court. The accusation in itself would be more outrageous than the claim."

The door to Arthur's chambers opened and Gwen strode in with folded linen in hand. "Excuse me, sire-" She began, but stopped just inside the doorway, eyes wide. As she stared at them, Merlin lain out on the prince's bed as Arthur leaned over him with his servant's _dirty boot_ beneath his arm, she cleared her throat nervously once or twice before setting down the bundle next to the door. "I'll just put these here, then."

Merlin just gave her a short wave and a sheepish smile. Arthur turned, paused for a moment as he looked at her, and then abruptly dropped Merlin's leg; it fell with a sharp smack against the frame of the bed. Merlin winced. "Yes. Thank you. Right there is fine." Arthur said uncomfortably. Gwen paused a moment more, blinking at the prince. After a few seconds, she curtsied, shot Merlin a worried look, and reluctantly closed the door behind her as she left.

"Right then." Arthur continued, stepping back from Merlin and avoiding catching his servant's grin. After a moment of silence, he purposefully walked over to a seemingly random pile of clothing and swept it into his arms. "Get yourself dressed already; we're out of time. Wear this," he heaped the bundle of cloth onto Merlin's lap and stepped towards the door. "I have obligations to care to; you have twenty minutes." And with that, Arthur tromped out and banged the door shut behind him.

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Right-o. Do review if you are so inclined. I admit that this is my first fanfiction, and so I probably desperately need some concrit up in here. Thank you for reading. (=


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin sat up, his lower half covered in clothing, and stared at the dark wood of the door. He listened to the echoes of Arthur's footfalls as he strode down the hall for a moment, and when they faded completely, let out a huge, put-upon sigh. The room was a complete mess. Clothes and boots and other random odds and ends were strewn everywhere; on the dining table, the mirror, and even the posts of the bed he sat upon; this would take hours to sort out. Merlin smiled. _For any other servant, that is._

He put his hands on his knees and looked sternly at the wardrobe. It did absolutely nothing for a moment, but then with a loud creak and squeal of hinges, flung its doors open wide. Clothing began to rustle across the floor and sail through the air as they rushed to fold themselves up, leap inside drawers, and hang themselves on hooks. After most of the litter was put neatly away and out of sight, Merlin allowed himself a small self-satisfied grin and turned his attention to the bundle of clothes in his lap. The outfit Arthur _insisted_ that he wear to the masquerade banquet tonight. The grin quickly slid from his face.

_What on Earth is Arthur thinking? Is he crazed? _Merlin thought irritably, glancing back toward the closed door with another sigh. This had to be the most unabashedly nonsensical thing Arthur had ever asked of him; he was quite sure of it. Not only did Merlin run the extremely high risk of landing himself in the stocks for imitating a nobleman, but most certainly the odds of escaping retribution were not bettered by imitating a nobleman and proceeding to attend a banquet _right under the King's nose. _He would be recognized immediately. What precisely was Arthur's point?

He fingered the rich fabric thoughtfully a moment, considering... before shaking his head and chuckling to himself. _I will _not_ do this. It's ridiculous. The prince will just have to find another way to entertain himself this evening that doesn't include laughing at me. _He gathered up the clothing and moved to put it away in the wardrobe as well, when something smooth and dark fell from the bundle in his arms and to the floor with a muffled clatter.

Merlin leaned over the bundle he held to stare down at what had fallen. It was a mask. A black one, with little silver grips where two soft, dark swaths of black fabric connected to either temple of the piece.

Merlin just continued to stare down at it for a moment, the mask obstinately staring back. "Well," he mumbled, depositing his load back onto Arthur's bed and bending down to pick the mask from the floor. The surface of the mask was smooth and the inside was layered with a fuzzy material that was ostentatiously pleasing to the touch. Curious as to how it would look, Merlin moved over to the mirror that stood near the window and stopped in front of it. "Could just…" he shrugged, lifting it to his face.

"Merlin."

He jumped, quickly dropping the hand holding the mask behind his back. "What?" He said loudly, turning around to face the door.

Arthur stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face. Merlin knew immediately that he had lost ground in their argument. "You want to go, don't you?" Arthur asked slyly, shifting his weight from the door frame and striding over to stand next to him by the window. Merlin was about to protest that statement when Arthur cut in. "Well, you can't."

"…Why not?" Merlin looked at Arthur suspiciously. Arthur looked out the window toward the castle grounds.

"I thought about what you said earlier." He told the glass slowly. "And I will acknowledge that … perhaps I had not thought the situation through to its entirety. It would not bode well for my reputation if you were to be caught; but the consequences would be far worse for you. I will not have you risk it. " Arthur turned away, making his way back to the open door abruptly.

Merlin was surprised. It was a very rare thing indeed for a Pendragon to admit to fallibility, and Arthur had just done so openly. Merlin wasn't quite sure as to what he should say. He looked down at the mask he held in his hand, and then to the retreating back in front of him as Arthur crossed the room's threshold and turned to head down the hall. "Wait!"

Arthur stuck his head back into the frame of the doorway. "I haven't got the time, Merlin. As I said, I have obligations-"

"No, just wait a second!" Merlin clutched the mask in his hand tightly as he made his way to the door.

"Ordering _me_ around, manservant?" Arthur chided, instantly uncooperative. He stepped away from the door, making to head back down the hall. Merlin reached out and grabbed him by the elbow.

"I'll do it." Merlin said with a smile. "I'll go with you. Tonight… that is."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at that. "No, you will not."

"Yes, I will."

"As I explained to you, _Merlin_, it was a silly notion; besides," he scoffed. "You would be spotted as a commoner immediately." Arthur told him dismissively, shaking his arm from Merlin's grasp. "You will _not_."

"Arthur, _really_. You spent the better part of this morning throwing your clothes about looking for an outfit to make me wear." Merlin crossed his arms, resolute. "It's decided. I'm coming."

Arthur stared at him a moment, taking in the commanding voice and willful look on his servant's face. He shrugged. "Alright." He said simply, and turning, continued down the hall.

Merlin stared after him a moment, before his face broke into a smile.

"Ah. And Merlin," Arthur stopped before turning a corner, looking over his shoulder at Merlin as he stood outside Arthur's doorway. Arthur grinned, a wide, triumphant grin that showed both his canines. "Meet me here in two hours." He said cheerfully, before disappearing around the turn and out of sight.

It wasn't until twelve minutes later, while helping Gaius sort and catalog a shelf of tonics back in their rooms, that Merlin realized he'd been played like a harp.

By _Arthur_, of all people. Good God.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone! I just wanted to say that… I sort of love you guys. Thank you for reviewing my story and leaving such kind encouragement. It means a lot to me.

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"Aah, aah!" Merlin cried, scrubbing at his face fiercely. He upturned the stool he sat upon and hit the floor, feeling around for the bucket madly with one hand as the other pressed tightly against his eyes. _Bad idea –bad idea_, he thought angrily to himself, hot tears running out between his fingers and down his chin.

"Merlin?" Merlin could hear the scrap of Gaius' heavy wooden bench in the main room as the physician made to rush toward Merlin's door.

"I'm alright! It's fine!" He called out blindly, voice an octave too high. His searching hand made contact against the side of the bucket with a thwack, sloshing water all over the wooden floor. Merlin dragged his body towards it, hands clenched hard onto the slippery brim, and thrust his entire head underwater. He blinked furiously, splashing down his front and soaking himself in his earnestness.

When Merlin raised his head out of the bucket with a gasp, he heard the slide of the latch at his door and the creak of floor boards. "…Dare I even ask?" Gaius' voice queried apprehensively.

Pulling a handful of linen from the bed, Merlin glanced blearily up at him from the floor, eyes prickly and streaming, hair plastered against the side of his face. He shook his head, smiling dejectedly.

Gaius closed the door, his only commentary a raised eyebrow as he looked about the room. The floor was slick with water and a dark sooty substance; books lay open and damp on the floor and resting against the bed frame; boots and clothes lay scattered in piles and puddles. "Hmm." Gaius picked up a stray neck scarf and a leather-bound book, placed them on Merlin's nightstand, and sat down on his bed. He folded his hands and waited patiently for Merlin to provide an explanation.

"I, uhm." Merlin coughed, rubbing the back of his damp neck. "I was… washing up."

Gaius looked down at him, face neutral. "It looks as though you were grappling with a sea serpent in the middle of your room, Merlin." He paused. "And lost terribly."

Merlin chuckled and shook his head, hair sticking up in slick wet clumps. "I'm sorry about the floor, Gaius. I'll mop it up. I just, I was trying to use a bit of lye, and-"

"You used lye on your skin?" Gaius admonished, looking at Merlin in mild alarm. "I would hope that you know better than that. It's highly corrosive; I use it to clean out the pewter pots and glassware."

Merlin sighed. "I sort of figured that once it started burning." He took hold of the hem of his wet shirt and pulled it up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor beside him with a slap.

Gaius pondered his charge a moment, leaning forward and picking the shirt from the floor. "How did you come to the decision that today would be a good day to test the merits of lye?" He asked, dragging the bucket closer and wringing the shirt out over it.

Merlin looked up at his mentor, his pale shoulders hunched as he rested his elbows on his knees. After a moment, he asked hesitantly, "Do I- that is…" He coughed again, looking down at Gaius' feet. "Do I look like a… commoner?"

Gaius laughed in surprise. "What gives you that notion?"

Merlin took the shirt from Gaius' hands and absentmindedly dried it with a mumbled spell. "I don't know… I hear it from Arthur everyday; it must be, uh… rubbing off." He smiled, embarrassed.

Gaius paused a moment, before rising from the bed and turning toward the door. "Arthur is intent on drawing a boundary between you and himself, Merlin." He said simply. "That is as he has been taught." He smiled back at Merlin. "Do you feel that being a commoner is less than being a prince?"

"What? No." Merlin protested. "No… it's just…" He sighed, running a hand back through his wet hair. "Nevermind. It was a stupid question."

Gaius looked at him from the doorway, brow furrowed, before turning and leaving. Merlin sighed again, glancing around at the standing water, and concentrated a moment, hand hovering above the floor boards. The water rose slowly in rivulets, merging together and dropping into the bucket at his side like a large, translucent snake.

"Here." Gaius stepped across the room and dropped a clean, dry cloth over his head and held out a bottle. Merlin took it, curiously swishing the amber liquid about. "It's an oil." He explained. "Dip the cloth and use it to wipe the dirt and lye from you."

Merlin uncorked it. A pleasant smell wafted from the bottle; a rich, herbal smell that reminded him of Gaius. He looked up at his mentor with a genuine smile. "Thank you." He said gratefully.

Gaius just reached down and ruffled his drying hair, a look of affection crossing his features. He walked back out to the door, but before he shut it behind him, Gaius turned back and gave Merlin an intent look."You are the most uncommon person I know, Merlin; I might even say extraordinary, if I were not concerned with how big your head would get. Don't let anyone tell you differently." The door shut behind him with a slide of the latch.

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This is more of a filler than a chapter, and for that, I do apologize. I adore Merlin and Gaius, however, and wanted to take a scene out for just the two of them. We return to the main storyline next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

"But I'm _not_ late. I'm early, even." Merlin objected with a smile, shutting Arthur's chamber door behind him and making to step further into the room. A pair of bare feet turned in his direction beneath the open door of Arthur's wardrobe.

"_Stop _where you are." Arthur's hand shot out from behind the the door and pointed at him commandingly. Merlin wavered, the toes of his boots teetering on the edge of the carpeting for a moment, before regaining his balance. Once Merlin ceased his forward motion, the hand disappeared from view. "And yes, Merlin, you _are_ late. I told you to meet me here in two hours."

"You told me that an hour and a half ago." Merlin said exasperatedly, looking around the room. The clothes and shoes and other paraphernalia were out again, and just as thoroughly thrown about on every available surface as they had been earlier that day. He was beginning to think that Arthur did it on purpose.

"Excuses," Arthur's voice teased. Merlin watched as a pair of dark grey trousers pooled at the feet beneath the door, were stepped out of, and then thrown across the room with considerable force. _He _does_ do it on purpose_, Merlin thought, crossing his arms and frowning at the wardrobe.

After a few moments of silence save for the rustle of clothing, Merlin exhaled loudly, leaning his head against the chamber door and looking up at the ceiling. "So am I made to stand here because the future ruler of Camelot has become as bashful as a maiden, then?"

The rustling stopped. Merlin noticed this, and looked back at the feet beneath the door. "Don't be stupid, Merlin." Arthur admonished after a few beats. _He sounds uncomfortable_, Merlin noted with surprise. _Strange..._ "Come here, then, if you won't wait."

Merlin uncrossed his arms and stepped over to the wardrobe slowly, feeling a slight sense of trepidation that he couldn't place. When Arthur came into view, however, trepidation was replaced swiftly by glee. "Look at you!" Merlin laughed, tilting his head and smiling at Arthur. He reached out and poked at a puffy white sleeve.

"Stop that." Arthur groused, batting the hand away. "It's you, next, you realize."

Merlin sobered up at the vague threat. "No, no, I think you look very nice." He assured. And quite honestly, he did. The light grey vest fit Arthur well and showed off his trim waist and broad shoulders; the long sleeved shirt beneath it was expertly made, too, and gave his master's appearance an uncharacteristically refined and graceful air. Arthur's trousers were also the same bright white as his shirt, with crisp, uncomplicated stitching.

Arthur examined Merlin's face for a moment, looking for any sign of insincerity. He apparently was satisfied with what he saw, and smirked, turning away from him and to the bed. He picked something up, though Merlin couldn't see what, and smoothed it out thoughtfully. "Right then. I picked some things out for you."

Merlin recognized that tone, and was immediately suspicious. "…what sort of things, exactly?" He asked warily, trying to peer around Arthur.

Arthur took hold of his shoulder and twirled Merlin around and away from the bed before he could get a look. "Wait, now, your liege," Arthur told him in a mocking manner, smile evident in his voice. Merlin could tell Arthur was having fun with him. "_I'll _dress you as appropriate for the royal court. Have you got that?"

"Fine. But I'd appreciate not looking like a great multi-colored bird." Merlin was not entirely sure, but knowing Arthur, he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to make him wear that awful hat again. It was not a pleasant thing to imagine. "Please." He added.

"Ye of little faith, Merlin!" Arthur laughed, taking hold of the hem of Merlin's tunic and tugging it up over his head. "Trust me. _I_ will not make you look like a fool."

"Because I already am one?" Merlin's voice was muffled as Arthur inexpertly tugged at a sleeve, trying to get the garment off.

"You catch on faster than I give you credit for." Arthur walked around Merlin and pulled at the collar. "And how do you manage to get your shirts on with these ears? They hook on everything." He grabbed one, trying to shove it into the neck of the tunic.

"Alright, alright!" Merlin caught hold of Arthur's wrists and pushed them away. "I can undress myself perfectly well, thanks." He started to shrug the tunic off.

"But I want to do it." Arthur protested, leaning down to work at the buttons on Merlin's pants.

"I've got it, really." Merlin insisted, dropping the tunic to the floor hurriedly and taking up the task of unbuttoning his own pants from Arthur. Arthur shrugged and reached behind Merlin. He picked something off the bed.

"Close your eyes." He demanded. When Merlin just looked incredulously at him, Arthur reached up and put a hand over them himself.

"Why should I?" Merlin tried to turn out of Arthur's hand, but Arthur grasped his temples with finger and thumb.

"Do it, Merlin. Close them."

"What are you trying to make me wear, you prat?" Merlin tried to pry the hand off, but it held fast, tightening on his skull. He sighed, dropping his hands from the one on his face. "Fine fine. Eyes closed." He grumbled, crossing his arms.

He felt Arthur lift his hand and peek under it at him, before removing it completely. "I am clothing you from my own wardrobe, Merlin." The prince informed him seriously. Merlin could still sense Arthur's eyes scrutinizing his face, making sure his eyes stayed shut. "It is a privilege that I give you." He added quietly.

Merlin almost believed that Arthur was in earnest. His shoulders relaxed a little. "Alright." He said apprehensively. "Come on, then."

If worse came to worse, he could always use magic to exact his revenge, after all. It was a comforting thought.

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Hello again, comrades. I have five exams next week, so this might be it for a few days. It depends on how efficiently I can get my butt into gear, I'm afraid. Do wish me luck in the meantime, and thank you for reading. 


	5. Chapter 5

"Which hand do you use to accept _anything_ offered to you from a higher ranking nobleman?"

"I don't know, sire." Merlin sighed, opening his eyes to shoot Arthur an annoyed glance. He was tired of being grilled on all of this seemingly useless information. "Does it even matter?"

"Wait, wait wait." Arthur grabbed Merlin's nose. "I told you to keep your eyes shut." He admonished, pulling it up to bring Merlin's wandering gaze back up to his face. "No. Peeking." He gave the nose between his fingers a tweak. "And yes, it _does_ matter. Answer the question."

"Nnnn, the right." Merlin replied nasally, rolling his eyes before shutting them again. He pushed the hand at his face away, rubbed his nose, and continued his effort to appear relaxed as Arthur's hands tugged and smoothed out the cloth across his chest. With his eyes shut, the situation was even more disconcerting. "What's taking so long?"

"Hush, Merlin." Arthur's voice traveled behind him and straightened the collar of the garment. "It's both hands. You take it with _both _hands. Anything otherwise would be an insult." After pausing a moment, his fingers fell from Merlin's neck and he exhaled loudly. "By the heavens, you aren't easy to dress," he said, exasperated.

Merlin smiled, raising his chin a little. "Now you understand what I've got to do every-"

"Please. Making _me_ presentable is easy." Merlin felt two hands grasp his arms from behind. "Dressing _you _and making it work…" Arthur spun him around, and after a moment of silent contemplation, clicked his tongue in satisfaction. "Now _that_ takes skill."

Merlin raised his head and hummed agitatedly at the ceiling. "Mm-_hmm_." He replied, shifting his weight from one foot to another. _These clothes feel strange,_ he thought, ghosting a hand against his side. They clung to him in unfamiliar places and smelled like cedar. _At least I haven't felt a certain hat crammed onto my head, _he thought,trying to look at the bright side.

"Ah. And don't talk to the woman with the big ginger hair." Merlin could sense Arthur circling him as he spoke, no doubt checking his work carefully.

"Why shouldn't I talk to her?" Merlin asked.

"Well. She has a habit of being…" Arthur paused. "Just trust me, Merlin." He took hold of his shoulder firmly and led him forward a few paces. Merlin stepped hesitantly, remembering what a mess the chambers were when his foot snagged on something and he nearly tripped. "_Right_ then." Arthur said importantly, tugging him up and to an abrupt stop. He turned Merlin slightly to the right before letting him go. "Open."

Merlin obliged, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. Then he caught sight of the mirrored surface in front of him. "…What is...that is…"

He turned and looked at Arthur, who was leaning over his shoulder and looking at the glass with a smug smile. "Yes?" Arthur asked, eyebrows raised. Merlin turned back to the mirror, slowly raising a hand to touch at the dark material at his chest.

It was a strange thing, looking at the mirror and feeling as though a stranger were staring back. Merlin ran a thumb absentmindedly over the high collar and down over the small, black line of buttons that ran down his front, and stepped back to get a better view of himself. "Huh." He said doubtfully.

"Don't hurt yourself in your rush to thank me." Arthur looked at him pointedly. After a moment he reached out and smoothed the material of Merlin's long, sleek sleeves thoughtfully, fingering the fabric at Merlin's wrists a moment before letting his hands drop away. "Especially when you attract the wandering eye of every lady at the banquet." He said suddenly, brow furrowing.

"No feathers, at least. I thank you for that, sire."Merlin said distractedly. He tilted his head to the side, pondering his reflection. It was quite the opposite of what he had expected from Arthur, actually. The dark silhouette of the rich fabric, the high collar, the sharp angles of the shoulders, and the smooth, precise cut of the hem… "I look like…" he trailed off.

"Like a what?" Arthur commented idly, gazing at the reflection with a tilt of his head as well. "Oh," he snapped his fingers. "Your name. You'll need a new one tonight." Arthur considered him briefly, hand stroking his chin. "I here dub thee… Sir Ivagotta Hardon."

Merlin shrugged, half-listening, and ran a finger over the little row of buttons again. He paused. "Wait…what?"

"Now," Arthur brought something up to Merlin's face. Merlin had a moment to recognize it as the mask he had seen earlier that day before it was pressed against his brow. "This is our finishing touch." Arthur told him seriously, a look of profound concentration in his eyes. He repositioned it carefully a few times before reaching both hands behind Merlin's head and tying the long black swaths of fabric.

"Oh. Right." Merlin glanced away as Arthur's face came close, trying to hold back the sudden urge to fidget. After a few seconds of fumbling, Arthur gave a gentle tug to the tie and brought his arms down, folding them over his chest. Merlin cleared his throat, looking back at the prince. "So. How do I look, then?"

Arthur stepped back and stared at Merlin intently. Merlin shifted uneasily, staring back. "You look halfway presentable." Arthur muttered quietly, face oddly neutral. He turned away and walked across the room to the table. Merlin watched him retreat, bringing a hand up and tracing the edge of the mask thoughtfully.

"Now," Arthur called over his shoulder, voice strong again. "If you wouldn't mind, Sir Hardon…"Arthur picked up a stray cape and two undershirts from the table's surface and threw them to the floor, searching for something. "Aha," Arthur exclaimed, lifting a flat wooden box from the table and removing the lid. "Tie mine." He demanded airily, holding out the box.

"Yes sire." Merlin stepped through the clothes on the floor slowly, feeling strangely constricted in the heavy, well-fitting clothing he wore. He took the box from Arthur and gingerly picked the intricate white mask from its packing material. "Hmm," He examined it a moment, taking in the light gold filigree that branched and twirled on its surface. "It's very...pretty." He commented, glancing up at Arthur with a teasing smile.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur said automatically, turning to him and closing his eyes.

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Hello all. I apologize for the tardy update. It was caused by three things: examination week, technological setback, and (probably the most prominent reason of the three) season two of Merlin. If you've watched the first two episodes, you'll probably know why.

Anyhow, thank you for reading. Please do review if you have a moment. (=


	6. Chapter 6

"No, shh."

"But we could just-"

"_Hush_, Merlin."

Arthur grabbed Merlin's arm and steered him out of the hallway and into an alcove nearby. "Someone's coming."

"What-" Merlin was about to object at being crushed into the small space until he glanced at Arthur's face. His eyes held an uncharacteristic look of child-like joy as he peered down the hallway that made Merlin stop cold for the wonder of it. "Right." He whispered instead, and closed the hanging over the alcove. Arthur seemed excited tonight, and Merlin was hit with the sudden desire to foster that in the prince.

"Off my foot."

"Sorry."

After a moment's awkward shuffling and silent contemplation, as they had listened carefully for any indication of approaching footsteps, Merlin let out a huff of nervous laughter. "I don't see why we have to sneak down to the Banquet Hall, though. We are disguised, after all." He pulled back the hanging over the alcove's opening carefully, however, and took a look out. He was just in time to see the back end of a pair of sentries as they disappeared behind a corner.

"It's just that." Arthur tapped the filigreed brow of his mask and gave Merlin a patronizing smile. "If anyone sees us in the residence halls, it won't be hard to figure out who we are." He paused to listen again to the hallway outside the alcove before continuing. "I have been attending masquerade banquets for quite a while, Merlin. How many have you been invited to?"

Merlin shrugged in the small space. "You have me there." He swept back the hanging and tripped out before straightening up and gesturing for Arthur to follow him. "But how many times have _you_ snuck around the castle without getting caught?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Why would you ever have the need to sneak around the castle?" He asked doubtfully.

"Ah, well. Never mind that." Merlin looked away from Arthur's face and down the hallway, feeling uncomfortable. Some things were easier left unexplained. "I think someone's coming… we had better keep moving, sire." He turned away from Arthur and started down the hallway with purpose, his borrowed black boots making an unfamiliar squeak on the stone beneath his feet. After a couple of paces, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the prince was actually following him. He was, though not without reluctance. Merlin smiled at that.

After turning around a corner, passing through another hallway, and jumping twice behind a pillar at the faintest sound of approaching footsteps, Merlin stopped in front of a large, ornamental tapestry. He paused, taking a moment to enjoy the look of confusion on Arthur's face, before he stepped forward and pulled back the left corner carefully to reveal a plain wooden door. "Servant's staircase." He said simply.

"Yes. Obviously." Arthur took a step toward the door. "I grew up in this castle, you realize." He pulled at the door firmly, but it didn't budge. He pulled at it again; this time with considerable force. "Of course." He smirked humorlessly at Merlin. "You lead us to a passageway that doesn't open. _Good work_."

Merlin's grin grew wider. "Hmm." He pushed the door open gently and then motioned for Arthur to enter with a sweep of his arm. They stared at each other for a moment, Arthur glaring out from behind his mask and Merlin smiling and beckoning, before the prince stepped forward and bumped Merlin hard on his way through the door.

They stepped down the dark, spiraling staircase tentatively, and after Merlin tripped over his own foot and nearly sent them down the steps, he was made to make his way down first. After a few minutes of steady slogging, Arthur sighed. "How much longer, then?" He asked, petulance creeping into his voice in the dark.

"Just a little farther-" Merlin stopped.

Arthur bumped into the back of him and they stumbled a few steps before regaining footing. "By the heavens, Merlin, what is it _now_?"

Merlin breathed deeply and put his hand over his heart, dazed; it was fluttering in his chest like a trapped bird. _What is this? _He took another breath. "I, uhm." He paused. "I don't know."

"Keep along, then." Arthur commanded impatiently. When Merlin failed to answer, the prince nudged him. "Merlin."

"Yeah." Merlin's voice cracked.

Arthur was silent for a moment, and then Merlin felt a hand bump blindly against his cheek before coming to rest on his shoulder. "Alright?" Arthur asked sternly.

"Sure… just a bit winded." Merlin worked a reassuring tone into his voice, and continued his decent. But he had sensed something on the periphery, something barely tangible. A presence –because it was most surely a presence, though Merlin didn't know of whom or what- had skittered across his consciousness in a way that was distinctly dissimilar to being out of breath.

_What was that?_ He pondered to himself. _It was familiar, somehow. _As they continued down the staircase, Merlin wracked his brain for the source of the lingering familiarity. _Could it be…Oh._ His eyes widened in the dark as he recalled where he had experienced something similar before: the feeling was akin to the wave of foreign and intrusive connectedness that he felt when the Great Dragon had been wont to call to him; and again, during that brief time when he had become entangled with the fate of the druid child.

It was magic calling to magic.

Hello, fellow Merlin fans. I apologize for the hiatus. I thought for a while that this story would not get itself another chapter; mostly through a lack of motivation on my part. But your reviews helped pull me out of my standstill, and for that… oh holy hell, _thank you_. I'll see you next week! 


	7. Chapter 7

"Look, Arthur." Merlin took a deep breath. "I need to-"

"Don't tell me." Arthur stopped abruptly as a wake of masked revelers overcame and swept by them in the passage. He turned and leveled Merlin with a stare. "You've decided you aren't going to follow through with this."

"I- It's not that." Merlin backpedaled, raising his hands in a placating manner.They were mere feet from the entrance of the banquet hall now; as the sentries stationed there pulled the doors open for the arriving group ahead of them, Merlin caught a glimpse of the crowded room beyond. _"_I just…" _need to find the source of that magic before it decides to find you_. "Uhm-"

"What _are_ you trying to say, then?" Arthur took a step closer to Merlin, his face deceptively neutral. "Because if you plan on _deserting me, _Merlin-"

"No, no, I'm _not, _Arthur; I'm not." Merlin searched for some excuse, waving his hands placatingly. "But I sensed… that is, there are… a lot of people in there! A _horde _of people, sire." He gestured half-heartedly behind Arthur's shoulder at the banquet hall doors, eyes wide in an effort to look earnest. "And I am nervous, you see, to be in there and cavorting and…and being in that room. So, you can understand, I sort of need to stay here and gather myself and my …courage. So…go on." Merlin made a shooing motion at the prince with both hands.

Arthur continued to stare as Merlin staggered out an excuse, his arms crossed in front of his chest; after a moment, the prince raised an eyebrow. "No." He said decisively.

Merlin frowned, frustrated. "But I-"

"_No." _

He sighed; there wasn't much use arguing when the prince pulled that superior tone with him. Dropping his hands to his sides dejectedly, Merlin turned toward the banquet doors. "Fine." _Better to keep close to Arthur anyway; at least until I can sense it again, _he contemplated. _Then I might be able to track it down. _Though the distinct sensation of a magical presence had subsided as quickly as it had come, Merlin knew that this wouldn't be the end of it. It was_ never_ that easy. He passed Arthur, walking resolutely to the banquet's threshold. "Come on then," he said over his shoulder.

Arthur made an irritatingly smug sound, but otherwise followed without comment.

As they entered through the familiar iron-clad doors, they were met with a cacophony of bright sounds: the voices of the crowded room swelled and ebbed like a tide; an undercurrent of harps and flutes could be heard threaded in the brief ebbs of conversation and clattering of brass goblets in hands._ There really is a lot of nobility here, though_, Merlin thought with surprise. Although he was accustomed to attending at royal gatherings in the castle, Merlin's duties were always firmly defined: focus on Arthur's wants and needs and tend to others when and where he was beckoned. Now, however, he was faced with the unfamiliar and somewhat daunting task of actually _mingling_ with these people. Merlin checked his mask nervously, reassuring himself that it was still firmly in place.

"Hold up a moment." Arthur called, a smile in his voice as he caught Merlin by the arm.

Merlin could see the enthusiasm playing in Arthur's eyes behind the filigreed mask. He relaxed slightly. "What is it?"

"Listen now," Arthur spoke conspiratorially, leaning in to talk just above the surrounding chatter of the crowded room. "Since you apparently were not doing so the first time around, _Sir Hardon." _He smiled slightly. "I want to make it clear that you should refrain from calling me 'Arthur' or 'sire' tonight." He paused, looking around at the masked revelers surrounding them before turning back to Merlin. "Just call me…Excalibur."

"Excalibur." Merlin stared at him blankly.

"Yes."

"And I have to be… Sir Ivagotta Hardon."

"Naturally." Arthur flashed him a grin.

"…No. No way."

"Yes, yes way."

Merlin nudged Arthur and was caught with the sudden urge to stick his tongue out at the soul heir of Camelot. "Of course, Sir Ivagotta Hardon! Whatever _you _say." Merlin announced loudly, causing a nearby trio of masked ladies in court finery to turn and stare.

"Stubborn," Arthur admonished with an arrogant smile. "We both know how this will end."

"Now hold on. I… _Emrys of Ealdor_." Merlin was hit with a sudden inspiration. " I am more or less your social equal for tonight."

Arthur contemplated him a moment. Merlin's warily challenging smile grew just a little. _This may be much more enjoyable than I had hoped, _Merlin thought with disbelief, as Arthur shrugged in uncharacteristic acquiescence.

"Alright. Have at it, then, Mer-" Arthur paused. "Embryo. Embrius."

"It's Emrys."

"Whatever; it isn't nearly as good as _my_ name for you, at any rate." Arthur took Merlin by the elbow. "Come on. Get out of the doorway."

They stepped together into the brightly colored masquerade.

Hello again, fellow Merlin fans! Please tell me what you think of this chapter, if you have a few extra seconds. I would appreciate it if you would; I'm trying to figure out if it has enough worth for me to continue on with it. Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin raised his head and looked up into the rafters of the ceiling, detecting a stark difference in its usual appearance: some poor servant had painstakingly installed an array of what appeared to be dozens of small, flickering clusters of candles. They replaced the two usual chandeliers which now loomed inert and unlit above, giving the hall a warm, unfamiliar ambiance.

This same ambience lent itself well to the masquerade; soft lighting made the people around them both harder to recognize and more mysterious as a result. _Even Arthur looks different, _noted Merlin, as he watched the prince weave them through throngs of chatting people to the center of the fray. He was shining, starkly white and oddly luminescent in the subdued light. _He looks less like Arthur and more like… a prince. _Merlin quirked an eyebrow at the incongruent thought, smiling absently to himself.

Arthur shot a glance back at Merlin. "Admit it." The prince said with a self-satisfied smirk. Merlin started, alarmed.

"Admit what?" He asked evasively, eyes wide.

Arthur's smirk grew. "That this was a brilliant idea."

"Oh. Yes. Well." Merlin looked away and up again at the vaulted ceiling. "Brilliant is pushing it." He eventually acquiesced with a smile, his thoughts elsewhere.

Along the walls were pushed the four long tables that usually framed the middle of the room, laden with food and pitchers of drink. As they made their way past one, Merlin felt a pang of guilt as he watched servants busy at work refilling goblets and cleaning up quail bones dropped carelessly on the floor by the gentry. _I'll make this up to you, _he promised quietly, looking down in embarassment.. _It must have taken ages to decorate, _he realized, thinking of Gwen and the other servants; he hadn't helped out as much as he should have that day.

His gaze landed on his rich, dark sleeves, the borrowed clothes. The expensive fabric hung heavily on him, as did an encroaching sense of inferiority. _What am I doing here? _He thought suddenly. _Pretending… to be better? _He rubbed a thumb over his sleeve rhythmically, biting his lip.

"Embryo."

"What?" Merlin asked dully, half listening as he inspected the floor. A pair of off-white boots came into view in front of him, and then Arthur's face as he peered up at Merlin with a look of confusion.

"Are you actually _scared?" _He asked, analyzing his manservant's face. "I thought you were lying to me before."

"Of course not." Merlin said quickly.

"Do you mean the bit about lying to me, or the bit about being scared?"

Merlin decided it would be wisest to ignore that question in favor of distracting the prince with something else. "Look!" He pointed to Arthur's right. "Some pears!"

"So?"

"You looked like you were hungry."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "If you're genuinely scared…" He said uncertainly.

"I'm not, honestly." Merlin looked down at his sleeve, adjusting the seam. "I just…" He decided, abruptly, to be frank. "I don't feel like…I'm really supposed to be here. Like this."

Arthur stared at him a moment. "That's ridiculous. I invited you here." At Merlin's lack of response, he became incredulous. "No. Are you finally recognizing your place? _Now_ of all the times you-" He shook his head. "You are dense, Merlin. Just… come on. I can assure you this privilege won't happen again, so…enjoy yourself. "

Arthur ruffled his hair condescendingly, making Merlin duck away. _He's right, _he thought, checking his mask absently_. This won't ever happen again. I should enjoy it. _Merlin sighed with a shrug, relenting. "Privilege," he smiled. "You know what would be a privilege? Watching you do your own laundry."

"I can assure you that won't happen, either." Arthur said matter-of-factly. "Now if you're finished being idiotic-" Arthur stopped, looking off into the crowd on his left, brows furrowed.

"What? What is it?" Merlin stepped in front of him and gazed into the crowd warily, scanning for anything unusual; his mind immediately went back to the sensation of magic from before. In the crowd, he saw a circle of masked revelers, crowding around something and laughing riotously. "What are they doing?" He asked with concern.

"You don't want to know." Arthur said darkly.

"Okay." Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur's tone of voice. "So. That means…?"

"That means that you don't want to know." Arthur stared off listlessly for a moment.

"I don't?"

He glanced back at Merlin's curious expression and sighed. "It's a game."

Merlin felt his apprehension grow at the look on Arthur's face. "Okay."

"A game where… a person is tied to a chair and blindfolded." Arthur sighed again, agitated. "Then… they have to guess correctly who has given them a… kiss."

"Oh." Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and looked back at Arthur. "I guess that's not so bad."

Arthur turned an disbelieving look on Merlin at his dismissal. "You don't get untied until you guess correctly." He crossed his arms. "I was in that chair until the end of the masquerade last time. A servant eventually untied me." Arthur muttered.

Merlin grinned. "I'm sure you loved it." He teased, imagining Arthur being pecked on the cheek by a crowd of shy young noblewomen.

"Shut up, _Mer_…Emerys." Arthur turned away from the playful uproar and his agitating servant. "And stay away from that." He added. "For your own good."

Merlin shrugged, feeling playful. "I thought you said I should enjoy myself tonight." He said boldly, making to cross the crowd. Arthur shot out a hand and turned him around. Merlin's eyes widened with surprise.

Arthur looked surprised as well. "Don't go… over there…?" He awkwardly tried to phrase the demand as a question, cringing. He was painfully attempting, Merlin realized, to be less of a prat. After a moment, where Merlin thoroughly enjoyed Arthur's uncharacteristically awkward position, he shrugged.

"Okay." He said easily, forcing a grin from his face. He found it odd that Arthur was so adamantly against something as harmless as a party game, but let it drop for now. "Let's go see if we can recognize anyone." He suggested.

They walked among the masked men and women, Arthur leading the conversations with those that greeted them, and Merlin standing quietly beside him, checking every once in a while that the mask was indeed still in place. Though he suspected that a mask and change of clothes wouldn't hold up against the scrutiny of someone who knew him well, his disguise made him feel safe; the king certainly wouldn't recognize him, at least.

Arthur seemed to be having an unusually good time; he was smooth and charming with the other guests, and smiled broadly at the exchanges between Merlin and the gentry, encouraging him to talk with an intermittent nudge.

On one occasion, they were greeted by a noblewoman as they overlooked dancers in the middle of the room; Arthur chattered on for a moment behind Merlin; Merlin, meanwhile, paid little attention to them, instead watching the dancers twirl around the floor._ I think I would like to try, _he thought mildly, watching the brightly colored revelers with admiration.

"And this is Emerys." Arthur said suddenly, nudging Merlin out of his pondering. The noblewoman smiled and held out a hand.

"Oh hello." Merlin, remembering something about taking an offering with both hands, clasped the noblewoman's hand in both of his when it had been extended to him. "It's nice to meet you." He said anxiously, jerking the hand up uncertainly a moment before letting it go with an embarrassed grimace.

"Nice to…meet you." The older woman had said warily, the veil over her mouth jumping with every word. "If you'll excuse me." She hurried back into the crowd, her cape billowing behind her in her haste. Arthur put an arm around Merlin then and sagged into him, laughing heartily at his expense.

"Scared that one off, didn't you?" Arthur gasped.

"Prat." Merlin mumbled, face hot. "You could have warned me." He twisted out from under Arthur's arm in agitation and turned away.

"Greetings."

A young woman in a long, flowing green dress and matching mask smiled at Merlin and held out her hand coyly. "Hello." Merlin said with some trepidation.

"I warn you; that's a girl, Merlin," Arthur whispered loudly behind him.

"Shut it." He hissed.

"Would you care to dance with me?" The girl asked quietly, gazing up at Merlin hopefully.

"Would uh, I…?" Merlin paused, suddenly tense. "Dance?"

Arthur snorted rudely behind him. "Oh, go ahead, Merlin. I want to see this catastrophe." He said sarcastically.

Merlin glanced back at Arthur, annoyed, before turning back to the girl with a determined smile. "Yes, actually." He took a steadying breath, trying his best to stand up straight and look suave. "Let us dance." As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he cringed minutely, feeling sick. _I don't know how to dance! What do I do? _

Nonetheless, Merlin led her out to the cleared floor, feeling Arthur's eyes on his back.

Hello fellow Merlin fans. I would like to dedicate this chapter to Lady Asteri and Larkaidkalikani for the extra encouragement. Thank you so much. I needed it. C=


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin stepped out into the dancing area, watching cautiously as couples whirled past them. He turned to the young woman in front of him with a strained expression, holding her hands out awkwardly. _Please let Arthur be preoccupied, _he thought nervously. He already felt ridiculous, standing there and not knowing what to say, without thinking of those blue eyes judging him from the perimeter. He swallowed. The young noblewoman glanced down at his chest and back to his face, brown eyes searching.

"So." He attempted to look at her charmingly; he figured it must have worked, since she dropped her shy demeanor and ambled up close, taking his hand and putting it on her waist. "Hi." He added anxiously.

"Hello." She giggled back, looking away from him and demurely down at their clasped hands.

"Um. Just so you know… I really _can't_ dance well; or… at all, actually. So-"

"We can just go slow." She smiled.

"…Okay."

They rotated awkwardly for a moment, Merlin concentrating hard on not stepping on her dress or feet, as people chatted and danced fluidly around them. On another turn, he saw Arthur, dancing with his own partner, a young woman in a dark sun-colored cloak; Merlin frowned. The grace and dexterity that Arthur commanded on the training field apparently could be applied to the dance floor as well. _Unfair, _he thought petulantly, staggering a little to the left to avoid the noblewoman's foot. He looked down, trying to find a pattern in the interwoven dance steps.

After a moment turned into a few minutes, the girl cleared her throat carefully and Merlin looked from their shoes to her face in alarm. "You have lovely eyes." She whispered, gazing up at him with a strange look on her face.

"Oh." Said eyes grew wide; Merlin stumbled onto her dress. "Oh, sorry." He said quickly, kicking the clingy fabric from around his shoe in a panic. "Um-"

She laughed lightly, extricating him from her dress. "Calm down." She said softly, putting a hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry." He repeated miserably, hands to his sides in defeat. "I'll go away now."

"No, please don't. An apology is not required." She smiled up at him a moment, thinking, before leaning forward and resting her head on his chest. Merlin tensed. "Oh my. Your heart is beating so fast," she exclaimed quietly, snaking an arm around his waist. He gulped, looking down at her. "Am I making you nervous?" She asked, smile in her voice.

"Yeh-! I mean, sorry, I mean-" He gulped again, trying to relax. "No."

She looked up at him with concern. "Are you sure?"

"No…that is, yes. Yes. This is… nice." He said shyly. Now that he looked at her, she really was very pretty. He returned her smile, gingerly putting his hand at her waist again. She laughed happily, hugging him closer.

"Emrys! Come here!" Merlin turned and saw Arthur disengaging from his dance partner, dismissing the lady with a half bow, his eyes on Merlin. "…If you would. I need your help with something." He added, beckoning to Merlin with a hand. Merlin frowned; Arthur seemed genuinely anxious.

He turned back to the girl with an apologetic smile; she was staring at Arthur over his shoulder, her eyes narrowed at the intrusion. "Could we dance another time?" He asked, extricating himself from her arms gently.

She looked up at Merlin and nodded with a heavy sigh. "That would be nice."

"Thanks. Thank you."

He weaved through the dancers warily and arrived at Arthur's side. "What is it?"

"Nothing. Just saving you from yourself." Arthur walked toward the refreshment table a few feet behind them and picked up an unattended pitcher of wine. "You're welcome."

"What?" Merlin wasn't sure he had heard the prince correctly.

"Don't 'what' me. You were practically kicking that girl off of you." Arthur laughed, pouring himself a goblet of the dark drink with gusto. "Or perhaps that was what you call 'dancing' where you're from?"

Merlin crossed his arms, his ears turning red. "That was none of your business." He told Arthur testily. "She actually liked me."

"Oh?" Arthur sounded dubious. "How did you gather that?"

Merlin scowled. "Well if you must know," Merlin pondered a moment. "She said, uhm, my eyes…" He trailed off, looking into the crowd. It had been a pleasant experience, feeling admired. Merlin rarely felt that way. He smiled absently.

"Stop being such a _girl, _Merlin." Arthur snapped, slamming the goblet down on the table and making Merlin jump.

"Why are you being such a prat?" Merlin demanded angrily, alarmed by the sudden change in mood.

"I'm not." Arthur replied immediately.

"Yes you are!"

"…Maybe I am." Arthur sighed.

"Yes you-!" Merlin paused, caught off guard. "Wait, what?"

Arthur shrugged, looking down at the table with muted agitation. "It doesn't matter." He said with a fierce smile, pouring himself another goblet full of the dark red wine.

Merlin stared at him, head cocked slightly. "You're worried about something."

"Only that you'll hurt someone with your utter lack of coordination." Arthur laughed forcefully. He set the pitcher down and drank deeply from the goblet. Merlin continued to stare. Arthur had been acting slightly off since this whole debacle had begun. _How come?_

"Are you…do you want to talk about it?"

"_Nothing _to _talk about." _Arthur articulated, jaw clenched.

"Are you in pain?" Merlin guessed, stepping closer. "Maybe your boots are too small-"

"Just shut _up_." Arthur commanded, exasperated. "Stop being my _shadow_, Merlin." He looked thunderously at his manservant, visibly stressed. Merlin stepped back. "Everywhere I go, you're there. Always there. I can't bloody _escape_ you for a _second." _The visible portion of Arthur's cheeks had flushed from underneath his mask; a sure sign that the prince wanted to hit something, hard.

Merlin took another step back. "Arthur-"

Arthur abandoned his empty goblet on the table with a clatter. "Just…go." He didn't meet Merlin's eyes. "Back to kicking noblewomen." He scoffed. Turning away, Arthur walked into the crowd. In a moment, he was gone.

Merlin stared listlessly at the spot where Arthur had stood, his shoulders slumped dejectedly, trying to decide whether or not to follow him. "You…it was you that bloody made me come, you clotpole!" He yelled, frustrated, his fists clenched at his sides. A few masked gentry whispered and turned away from him with amused expressions. Merlin shot them a glare.

"Fine. Be that way." Merlin shook his head with an anguished frown. He turned in the opposite direction and began to wander aimlessly through the crowd, chest constricted. _We were getting on, though_, he thought sadly. Merlin was never quite sure how to act with Arthur; his moods seemed to come and go without any semblance of a pattern. Some days, he seemed to acknowledge Merlin as an equal, and would talk to him as such; other days a teasing remark would earn Merlin a bucket of mop water thrown in his face.

Merlin sighed, coming to a bench in a dark corner of the banquet hall and sitting down heavily. He rested his head in his hands, trying to decide what to do. A niggling part of his brain was constantly reminding him of the magic felt earlier; that there was a possible danger somewhere, lurking out of range; and when there was a magic-related entity of unknown origins, it nearly never boded well for the Pendragons in particular. He would have to stay here; there was no other choice open to him.

"So here is whither you disappeared!"

Merlin looked up at the familiar voice. His dancing partner from earlier was standing in front of him, a wide smile on her face. "Oh. Hello again." He said distractedly. "I don't feel like dancing right now, could-"

"Oh, that's alright!" She laughed, cheerily taking his arm and pulling at him to rise from his seat. "I had something else in mind anyway. Follow me."

Merlin rose, perplexed. "I don't really- no. Not right now."

"Do please come." She tutted at him with a pout and pulled again on his arm, willing him to follow her.

He paused, thinking about Arthur, his harsh words ringing in his ears. _I'll give him time to cool down, _he decided. "Alright." Merlin smiled politely, relenting. She clapped her hands with a giggle and led the way into the crowd.

Another update? And so soon after the one prior? Unheard of! XD Honestly, It's all thanks to those few who take out twenty seconds to submit a review. I appreciate them so much. _Thank you. _

On a side note: Season three of Merlin has commenced! Woo hoo! 3


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